That Which Once Flew
by ShironoOkami
Summary: There was nothing the Hawk would not do for his lord. Midotaka AU.


**Ugh... -wails in absolute despair- Note to self, don't listen to very depressing songs while thinking of Midotaka fanart late at night. T^T**

**This is based on a fanart depicting Midorima with bow and arrows, and Takao in ninja garb, watching him from a short distance away. I would love to link it but I can't remember where I saw it. I don't own anything but the story.**

No.

This can't be happening.

This couldn't be happening.

No… _No!_

* * *

Shintarou's massive sprint quickened even further, the bow on his back nearly swinging off in the midst of it. His memories were vague at best, of last night. They had intertwined together, with his head feeling heavier than usual. He thought it was due to the afterglow—that session last night had been more intense than any other.

"_Haha… Shin-chan, you really are quite the monster, aren't you?" The other had chuckled sweetly, lips tracing the curve of his ear as he lay on top of him._

Little did he know it was actually due to the sleeping drug that damned ninja slipped into his drink over their quiet dinner.

What was the idiot even thinking—?!

The realization made him slip, but he regained his footing through sheer willpower. He remembered the day when he first met him. It had not been the first for the ninja though. Apparently he had caught the other sneaking some apples into his pocket once, and gave him a real telling off about it.

"_I even got that bow of yours pointed at me, arrow set to fly and all! Shin-chan, you're horrible for not remembering! Did you not know how much trauma you caused me?!" The voice drew out in mock hurt, but those eyes—the colour of leaves in late autumn—danced with all the mirth in the world._

That was the beginning of something not even Akashi, the Emperor, could have foreseen. At the thought of the name, he drew his eyes into a severe glare, fists clenching until the white of his knuckles showed. He sped on, skillfully loading his bow with an arrow, ready to shoot at any given's notice.

Akashi Seijuurou had been in power for too long. The Murasakibara lordship had foolishly challenged the normally benign supreme power, and at one point, it actually seemed as if they would gain control over the kingdom.

But suddenly, things went very, very wrong.

In face of losing the very kingdom he had attained through the result of his efforts, Akashi had transformed. Cold and cunning as he was before, he grew even more so, annihilating the entire Murasakibara clan save for two children. During his next shogi match with Shintarou after that, he merely stated that it was to "give them a taste of despair, so that they would grow strong". The softened expression he saw did not match the words that were coming out of that mouth.

The forest was unusually silent—an ominous atmosphere. Things must have already started at the rendezvous point up ahead. _Of course there wouldn't be any screams—a ninja hunts from the shadows. _

Shortly after the fall of the Murasakibara lordship, he met the rogue ninja again by chance when he was out practicing his shooting. With short, cropped hair and bangs darker than night that framed his face, and the curious orange glow of that brilliant gaze, the frivolous man followed him like a puppy dog to its master. Shintarou had tried every way he could to be rid of him, but to no avail. Not only the man was persistent, he was sharp, sharper than Akashi's personal lieu of generals. If Shintarou has told him to seek, he would come back with far more than what was asked.

Always calling him "Shin-chan! Shin-chan!" and cackling away, but disappearing when any other neared them. It wasn't only after the rest of the servants and household members realize the ninja's existence when they finally confessed that they had thought their lord had lost his sanity, yelling out to no one in particular for a solid six months. Of course, the man responsible received a full throttling for that.

It was during yet another session of shooting practice that Shintarou caught the starry-eyed look on the other's face as he released the arrow from his grasp. He watched the ninja trace the path of the arrow, gaze fixed on the head that had struck dead center on the designated target.

Shintarou wondered silently then, what was it he had done to deserve such amazement and wonder.

"_Pfft. It's really unbelievable no matter how many times I see it. You drawing your bow with your left hand, the arc your arrow takes…" The muffled laughter died, being replaced by a faint smile. "But it always, always hits home."_

It was the first time that Shintarou had seen that smile. Gentle, compassionate, fond, loving at all once, enhanced by the glassy sheen across the other's eyes.

It was also the first time they had made love.

Shintarou felt his chest constrict tightly, so much that it stole the breath out of him and made his brows furrow. It hurt.

There had always been petty assassins that tried to take a lord's life. Especially so if you were (or used to be in Shintarou's case) the right hand of the Emperor. Those attacked never deterred Shintarou and his bow, but ever since the arrival of this ninja, the attacks stopped altogether. The Midorima household had bestowed the name "Hawk" upon the shadow that never left their lord.

He reached the clearing at last, but he found it full of bodies and blood, with no other living thing. Recognizing none of them, he let out a shaky sigh of relief, running a hand through his forest green locks. Picking up on freshly laid tracks, he followed with much haste.

The Hawk had seeped into his life in more ways than one, completely at ease with those in his household, even though he had absolutely no sense of etiquette and propriety. Soon, everyone from distant relatives right down to his very servants had begun to smile at the sight of him and even approach him of their own accord, instead of murmuring a quick, timid greeting. (He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what the Hawk had said to entice this sudden change in behavior of those around him).

"_That's just cause you're a tsundere, Shin-chan! With that permanent constipated look on your face, anyone would be scared out of their wits to talk to you."_

_To which Shintarou gave an indignant harrumph at the word 'constipated'. _

Following the fall of Murasakibara, the Emperor had grown wary of the other lords. His turned a scrutinizing eye on them all, not hesitating to bring down the iron hammer if they did not command their area to his liking. And like that, he continued his reign. Shintarou knew that the Emperor had always had this side to him, but he found himself occasionally wishing that the path Akashi had taken was a different one than to now.

He knew several small families had begun to band together to overthrow Akashi. Under the name of "Seirin" and lead by the Kagami family, they were fighting for their freedom, and for the rights to govern their lands as they see fit, as long as they paid their taxes and due respects to the one who reigned over them all. Slowly, they were gaining cooperation from various other clans—Kise was the first to offer allegiance, then Midorima, then the Aomine clan. Murasakibara had also pledged their cooperation.

Things were at an impasse for a bit, both sides biding their time and calculating each other's moves. Until one day the blooming flower of the Midorima household—the lord's younger sister herself staggered back to the main house from a simple festival, pale with fright and shock. Her normally pristine clothes were caked with mud, and her platoon of bodyguards (what? Midorima was paranoid) was entirely missing. Though she herself was untouched, Midorima and his Hawk's fury was unadulterated at such a blatant threat towards the clan head.

And so began the game.

At first, it was single lives that were lost, back and forth, between both clans, like a little tug of war. The numbers grew and grew, as did with the fear. When the bodyguards had dwindled to a number that wasn't sufficient for the main house itself, Midorima was near his breaking point—what was the point of having the so-called "divine left hand that was worth a hundred men" when he was forbidden by his family's elders to join in the fray himself?

Looking back on the chronological process of events, he was blind not to have noticed the slight, subtle shift in his Hawk's attitude. Touches grew more frequent, more desperate. And yet, even time and again as they joined, with more passion than the last, it felt as if the one who had always been following was, in reality, drifting further and further away from Shintarou's grasp.

It all culminated to last night, where that blazing, almost golden gaze that had been writhing in his arms widened at the presence of tears in the corners of green irises.

_Why…? What are you hiding from me? _

They had never needed words for important moments between them.

For a while, his Hawk had folded his wings around Shintarou and stayed where he was, tears also silently streaming down his face with abandon.

All they could do was to hold on to each other.

But when his sister rushed into the confines of his private sleeping quarters just as the sun broke through the clouds, his awoke only feel the remnants of lingering warmth beside him. The horrified expression on her delicate face and the all-too-familiar long scarf, the same shade as Shintarou's hair and eyes as well as a single brown feather, white-tipped with black strips evenly placed across, made everything fall into place.

His feet skidded to a rough stop, sending bits of sand and rock and gravel flying. He raised his head just to catch sight of a bright red liquid spray.

"_TAKAO!_"

Akashi's bi-coloured eyes flitted to his direction for just a second, expression amused. He drew his glinting sword out of the body in a slow, precise movement. Shintarou was already roaring, becoming undone as he charged. Arrows took flight, one after the other after the other after the other. Akashi merely took each one down with simple swings of his sword, not saying a word. Had he not, his heart would have been pierced in the same place as many times as there were arrows.

"You picked up a curious one, Shintarou." The Emperor drawled, almost lazy in his tone. "This is beyond my expectations, but I will withdraw my forces from your territory for now."

Shintarou fell to his knees beside the faintly breathing man on the ground, trying to stem the bleeding with his robes. He was no longer listening.

"Thanks to this single life, not only did the Midorima clan regain some much needed time, Seirin has also infiltrated several Akashi households across the land." He turned his back, not showing the slightest bit of fear. "However, I have said it once and I will say it again—the Akashi clan will not fall. No matter how much the likes of you struggle."

The red-haired man only allowed himself as much as a flinch as he felt an arrow dig deep into his arm—a clumsy, distracted try. Instead, he began the walk back to his steed which was waiting nearby, posture unaffected, amused smile still very much in place.

But Shintarou paid him no heed.

"You fool!" He cried, voice breaking. "You _absolute_ fool!"

"You wouldn't… have allowed it otherwise, Shin-chan…" The voice was weak.

And growing steadily weaker.

"_Takao…_" He called, voice tight with immense pain. "_Taka—_" A choked sob.

"I decided way back then that I would only belong to you and no one else, y'know? That you were my only master, and my lord." The seemingly small cough wracked his body, only serving to fill his mouth with more of his blood. "After all, a rogue ninja owns nothing but his name."

Shintarou shook his head vehemently, mouth opening and closing, but no words were formed. With one hand, he held the other's, bringing it to his face and pressing his lips against the palm. His right hand cupped his Hawk's cheek, stroking it with his thumb, the movements short and jerking as his chest heaved in time with his sobs. Kazunari's hand twitched in his grasp, before pulling at his softly, so that Shintarou's large hand lay on top of Kazunari's chest, where his heart was.

Shintarou shook his head once more, not wanting to believe, "No!"

"Whether it beats or not… This was, and will always be yours."

He brought the other as close to him as possible with trembling hands, lips somehow finding Kazunari's in one last, _last _attempt to hold onto him, the metallic taste of life-giving blood filling his own mouth. He felt Kazunari's lips slowly curl into a soft smile. Such a kind, kind smile, only ever meant for Shintarou, and Shintarou alone.

"I'm sorry, Shin-chan…" _  
_

Fingers caressed his cheek with butterfly touches, coming to brush away the tears that had yet to join the twin streams that marred his cheeks.

"I don't think… I will be able… to respond… to… your calls… any…more…"

Then, with a final, almost inaudible breath, the Hawk's wings gave way.

And he would never once again, soar through Shintarou's skies.


End file.
